


never quite my style

by pheonix85



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: College Student Peter, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Gen, IKEA Furniture, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, absolutely ridiculous, but wouldn't it be kind of funny if he did?, kind of, there is no way tony stark would have a hard time assembling ikea furniture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 00:03:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17991056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pheonix85/pseuds/pheonix85
Summary: Peter is going off to college. Tony is already helping with pretty much everything, but Peter wants to pick out his own stuff, its part of the fun of living on your own for the first time, and so a trip to Ikea is made. Tony Stark is a genius mechanic who built a suit in a cave with a box of scraps. He totally, 110% can handle this.Narrator: He could not handle this.Rated Teen only for language.





	never quite my style

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me last weekend while I built an entertainment stand by myself, along with the memory of attempting to build a kitchen island cart with my parents (we put the doors on BACKWARDS). Also inspired by Terry Jeffords attempting to build a sparkly Princess Castle on Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Complete crack. Enjoy.

 

“Why are we even here?”

Tony Stark’s exasperated tone was overcome by the high pitched squeal of a toddler splitting the air. Peter sighed deeply, pushing a pallet dolly around the corner of the aisle in a warehouse. He looked over to see Morgan Stark, hanging on her father's back, grabbing at some dangling light fixture just out of her reach. Tony stepped back away from it, turning to follow Peter with a wide, exaggerated look. 

 

“I mean, seriously," Tony waved his arm. "I think I’m gonna break out in hives in here…”

 

“I don’t understand how you’ve never been in an Ikea before.”

 

“Why would I _ever_ have a need to come to an Ikea?”   
  


“Are you saying you’re too good for Ikea?” Peter looked at his mentor out of the corner of his eye as he rolled to a stop next to a stack of heavy looking boxes. “Because I didn’t hear you complaining when we were in the cafeteria.”

 

“The meatballs were very good,” Tony allowed. “But I don’t know why we’re _here_. You know I could easily take care of this for you. We’re talking a custom apartment, complete with…”

 

“Tony,” Peter stopped him, leaning against the handle of the cart with a sigh. “You know I appreciate everything you have done for me. And everything you _want_ to do for me. I mean, you’re paying for my apartment, and my car, and _my tuition_ , please just let me do this for myself. It’s part of the experience.” He shrugged his shoulder toward the rack of desks behind him. “You wanna help me with this?”   
  


“Oh, the kid who can stop a bus with his bare hands needs help with a plywood, do it yourself kit?"

 

“You’re being an elitist.” Peter tilted his head, looking around for anyone who could overhear them---of course, there was no one, Tony was more perceptive than that. “I was _going_ for inconspicuous.” 

 

“Buddy, you brought Tony Stark with a hyperactive 18-month-old strapped to his back to a crowded warehouse, you left subtle behind a long time ago.” Nonetheless, he wandered to the other side of the cart, playfully grabbing at the little girl’s foot behind him to make her laugh. “And I am not elitist.”   
  


Peter snorted, and gave him a look. Tony only rolled his eyes, grabbing at the corner of the box.

 

“Fine, maybe a little bit.”

 

And so it went. After the desk, they wandered the aisles as Tony kept track of the models Peter had picked out when they walked around the showroom areas before lunch. In addition to the desk, there was a bed, a bookcase, a dresser and a small table for his kitchenette area. They would be moving in the bulk of the big stuff this weekend, and bringing up the rest the next, right before classes started that Monday.

 

Tony had, of course, offered much more---an entire house, if Peter had wanted that, but Peter had declined. He actually pushed back pretty hard at the idea of living off campus, preferring the idea of the dorms near the buildings where his classes would be. Tony had argued they would only be a distraction, that Peter deserved his own space, and May had pointed out that it may be easier for Peter to be more discreet about his _extracurriculars_ if he lived alone. 

 

Peter had drawn the line when the interior designer had called, though. He explained to Tony and Pepper that he was sure Giovanni was good at his job but that he wanted to pick out his own stuff for his place. He wanted it to be _his_. Mr. Stark had started to pay him for his internship, once it actually turned _into_ a real internship and he was helping in the lab more. He had saved up a little money and he wanted to pay for it himself. He wanted part of this to be his own, all outright.  

 

He knew Mr. Stark had a tendency to go overboard when he cared about someone. Tony just wanted Peter to be taken care of, for any of this to not be a burden, and Peter suspected it may be a little bit of worry in there as well. The painful echoes of the Snap a few years before had faded but not gone away altogether, and Peter could always tell when they got too loud for Tony. Sometimes it was in the form of a text message late at night, or Tony checking in on patrol, or a hand on Peter's shoulder when they were working in the lab. Peter would always let it rest for as long as Tony needed, sometimes even covering it with his own, just to reassure the man that he was still there. 

 

But now he was going to be four hours away, and he wasn’t sure Tony was dealing with it all that well.

 

They wrapped up and paid and headed out to the parking lot without much of an issue. People seemed to notice Tony but said very little to the trio, aside from casting curious glances. Being the personal intern to Tony Stark had its perks, and one of them was going where Tony went, so there were photos of them together, mentions of him in interviews; Peter really was just thankful no one seemed to care enough to connect the dots about Spiderman. 

 

They’d rented a small truck. Pepper and May had gone into the city for the day to shop and taken the car, and they had plans to meet up with them later that night after they had gotten stuff at his new apartment done. It didn’t take long to get where they were going, a small complex a few blocks away from the campus, and Tony made sure to get the baby situated in what would be Peter’s room before they got all the boxes of furniture moved in.

 

They set to unpacking things. As it was with something like this, there were a million little pieces in plastic baggies, slats of boards stacked and marked with stickers, and Tony hauled out a bag of tools he had brought with him from the Compound upstate. After ensuring Morgan was occupied in her pack and play in the corner, enough out of the way that she wouldn’t get hurt, Peter sat back on his haunches surrounded by the mess and sighed.

 

“Now, Mr. Stark, I’ve heard that this bed is a little confusing at first…”

 

Tony gave him a withering stare. “Peter. I built a prosthetic suit in a cave, with a box of scraps, I _think_  I can handle a simple bed with a couple of drawers.”

 

“Mr. Stark, I’m just saying, these things are like, notorious for being complicated, don’t you think it’d be a good idea to just double---”

 

“Peter.” Tony’s eyebrows rose and he pointed sharply at the younger man. “One more word and I’m calling Giovanni back and he can come by and have his way with the place.”

 

It was an empty threat, but Peter just sat back on his chair with a sigh as Tony began to organize the pieces. Off to the side, Morgan looked up from the Little Tykes playset she had been occupied with and clapped her hands with a grin.

 

“Daddy! Daddy, go!”

 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Tony cooed at the baby with a soft smile before glancing back at Peter. “See, Morgan believes in me, why can’t you?”

 

“I believe in you,” Peter said defensively. “But I just want you to not get ahead of yourself. There’s a lot of stuff here, Mr. Stark, and this isn’t one of your creations. Sometimes you just----”

 

“I just what?” Tony asked, eyes narrowing.

 

“Sometimes you do stuff thinking you know what needs to be done and it’s not always right. Is all I’m saying. I’m sure you don’t want to have to undo everything just because you’ve missed a shelf or something. Right, Morgan?”

 

She replied in some kind of incoherent babble, and Peter smiled at her.

 

“I’m not gonna miss anything,” Tony scoffed. “I’m sure it’s relatively straightforward, they make these so _anyone_ can put it together.” 

 

Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna get something to drink. Morgan, you want anything?”

 

She looked up at him thoughtful, her expression twisted. “Pouch?”

 

Peter grinned wider. “Fruit pouch it is. Tony, coffee?”

 

When the billionaire didn’t answer, Peter turned to look at him before leaving the room. Tony was holding up two pieces of wood, looking to be about the same size, but not quite, a frown on his face, before looking back down at the different piles of screws on the ground. Peter cleared his throat.

 

Tony looked up at him, startled. 

 

“Coffee, Mr. Stark?”

 

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, coffee, sounds good, sounds…” Tony frowned and looked back down at the pieces, distracted. “Hey, you mind grabbing the baby some yogurt or something? We’re in between meals.”   
  


“I was thinking maybe one of those fruit pouches Pepper packed, we don’t really have anything in the fridge yet,” Peter said without another look back, trying to stop a grin. “You just work on the bed.”

 

“Oh I got this,” Tony replied, still not looking up as Peter walked towards the kitchen. “I definitely got this.”

 

* * *

 

He definitely, did not, get it. 

  
“It doesn’t make any sense!” Tony hissed, laying on his belly, close to the floor. He pulled one drawer out, then the one to it’s left, eyeballing the space between the tops of the drawers and the board above them. “They’re uneven! Why are they uneven!” He pushed himself up, glaring at the bed in front of him, eyes darting at all three spaces for the drawers.

 

Peter stood behind him in the doorway, an exhausted look on his face. He held Morgan on his hip, and she had a fist clenched around the collar of his shirt. Peter looked down at his watch and sighed. 

 

“Mr. Stark, we have to _go_. Happy is almost here with the car, and Pepper and May are gonna expect us in like 20 minutes down by the water for dinner. And I don’t think that fruit pouch is tiding Morgan over for much longer.”

  
“I know, I know, I almost got it but…I built a prosthetic suit in a _cave_ ,” Tony repeated from earlier, but this time sounding defeated and lost. “With a box of _scraps_.”

 

“ ** _Tony_**.” Peter interrupted pointedly, shifting the baby on his hip. “We can figure out later, I’m not moving in for good until next weekend. It’s fine.”

 

“It’s not fine, it’s where you’re going to be living, Peter. Just fine isn’t acceptable.” Tony pushed himself into a crouch, staring at the drawers. “I swear…”

 

“The bed is basically finished.” Peter pointed out. “I just have to put the mattress on, I don’t even care about the drawers that much…”

 

“I care,” Tony sniped. “I want it to be right, and it’s just a…” He sighed, deeply aggravated. “I fucking hate Ikea.”

 

He pressed his fingers to his scalp and sighed once more, deeper and with a hint of a growl. He was muttering something to himself---something about actually being able to speak Swedish---before he tossed his hands up in capitulation and pushed himself to his feet. 

 

“Next week then. Goddammit. Here---” He held out his arms for his daughter, and Peter passed her over. Tony kissed her temple and followed Peter out into the living room to gather her things before leaving. As he attempted to wrestle her jacket on as she squirmed, Peter made sure they had all of the essentials before grabbing his own 

 

“Thank you for trying, Tony.” Peter began, picking up the diaper bag and setting it on his shoulder. “Maybe I should have just hired someone else, I didn’t think…”

 

“Hey, no, that’s not…” Tony held up a hand. “This is going to be your home for the next four years, Peter. I want it to be what you want, I was just giving you a hard time earlier. I’m just sorry I couldn’t make it work for you.”

 

Peter laughed. “Couldn’t make it work for me? Tony, the only reason I’m here is because of you.” He shifted, uncomfortable as Tony’s expression became serious. 

 

“I just want to make sure you’re gonna be okay,” Tony replied softly, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “This next part of your life is important, and I want it to go good for you. After everything...I mean, I think we all deserve for everything to go okay from here on out, you know?”

 

Peter nodded. “It will. I’m good. We’ll figure the bed out and get the other stuff together later, I know we will. You always take care of me.”

 

Tony frowned. He squeezed Peter’s shoulder before dropping his arm to hike the baby up where she was clinging to his side and grumbled a little. “I always try to, at least. Stupid, goddamn bed.”

 

“GODDAMN BED!” Morgan hollered, parroting her father, and Peter’s eyes went wide. “GODDAMN BED, GODDAMN BED…”

 

Tony blanched, sighing deeply. “Great. Just great.” He opened the door, motioning for Peter to go ahead of him. “Let’s go before I break something else. And stop laughing---it’s only gonna encourage her.”

 

* * *

 


End file.
